


The Boy Who Loved

by lovely925



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-01 18:07:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15779328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovely925/pseuds/lovely925
Summary: Lily Evans befriends a strange boy over the summer between her fourth and fifth years of grammar school.  He shows her things that she never conceived to be real, and is shocked to find, at the end of the summer, that she has been invited to learn magic at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.Severus Snape finds solace in the halls of Hogwarts, particularly in the dungeons.  They serve as an escape from his troubled, loveless home.  Despite the example of hatred that his parents have set for him, Severus falls for his young muggle friend and, without her knowledge, she teaches him what love truly is.James Potter and his band of close friends have been waiting for this day their entire lives.  Their names had been down for the elite Hogwarts School since the day they were born, and enthralling stories of its magnificent halls had been passed down from their parents and grandparents.  James intends to be the most popular boy in their year, and his dream is to become the seeker for the Gryffindor house Quidditch team, just like his father before him.  But popularity comes at a price, and one cannot be popular without first making enemies.





	The Boy Who Loved

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for choosing my fic! Please note:  
> 1) I don't have time to extensively edit  
> 2) I don't have a beta-reader  
> 3) I'm all for concrit if you are so inclined.  
> 4) Updates will not be consistent, as I have a full-time job and I am also working on two other original novels.  
> 5) I will try my best to stick with the original storyline according to what we know from the seven Harry Potter books by J.K. Rowling. It may not be perfect, but please feel free to kindly point out what might be wrong so that I can fix it.

     Two adults stand poised aggressively, shouting at each other words that cannot be soon forgotten nor forgiven.  Angry, hurtful remarks spew from their mouths, hurtling through the electrified air toward their intended targets and crashing upon all ears present.

     Only when a particularly explicit threat leaves one of them does a small whimper break from the dark corner.

     The woman, her pale, thinning hair cropped short and her unexceptional face twisted into a sneer, breaks her focus to glance at the small body huddled in the far corner.  The look she gives him down her hooked nose is full of contempt as if her only son’s very presence is undesirable.

     His father mirrors the expression through his dark curtain of hair.  The long, dank strips, greasy enough to oil the wooden furniture, is parted just enough for him to peer through with one eye.

     With a flick of her wrist, a loud _CRACK_ fills the room, and the boy yelps in pain, tripping over his own feet to get to his room.

     “OUT!” she rages, slamming the hall door with another twitch of her wrist to block his path.

     His intention is to do her bidding as quickly as he can, but a moment’s hesitation is enough to make her grab him tightly by his arm and throw him out.

     His holey soles scuff the pavement outside of the front door, and his socks are immediately soaked when he steps into a puddle to maintain his balance.  Cursing, he stuffs his hands into his jacket pocket and walks out into the steady drizzle with purpose.

     The sky above him is a shapeless, pale grey with no hints on letting up with the rain.  He navigates the narrow, cobblestone streets of his neighborhood with his head bowed against the pelting water droplets.

     He hopes she is there in the meadow, the girl he likes to watch, but he doubts it on a day like this.  She is beautiful, innocent, and magical.  She makes his dark soul light, her laughter fills the deep crevices in his young soul that seem to already be pulsating with evil intention.  She keeps him _wanting_ to do the right thing and stay on the path of light.

     He is disappointed to see that the meadow is deserted except for a pair of swans swimming lazily about the pond below.  He leans against the thick trunk of his favorite tree and watches them serenely for a moment until he hears a rustle from across the way.

     His head snaps up, dark hair much like his father’s covering most of his face, and there she is down in the small valley just on the other side of the pond.

     He smoothly dips behind the tree and slides into his usual spot in the bush beside it.  The branches had been pushed back and trampled, and a spot just the size of his body was cleared amongst the twigs.

     She seems to glide through the grass and parts the rain as she walks through it.  She is untouched, not an inch on her is wet, and she sits at the edge of the pond, tempting the swans with a sack of bread.  She talks to them, but he can’t discern her words.

     He wants to go to her, but she doesn’t know that he exists.  He wants to tell her what she is, wants to share with her the joys of their kind, but he knows that if he didn’t scare her away, she would be repulsed by him just like his parents.

     He pulls up a rock and slides his potions book from where it had sat hidden, charmed by him to repel rain.

     The girl’s head snaps up and her eyes narrow at his bush as if she knows she’d just missed the movement.  She goes back to feeding the swans, but her posture straightens and her demeanor changes.  She knows she’s not alone.

     The boy flips through his book, counting the days until he is finally shipped off to school where he can properly learn how to brew potions.  He didn’t have the instruments nor the skill to do it alone, especially without an education, therefore he was exceptionally excited to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

     This was part of why his parents fought tonight and almost every day since he could remember.  His father wanted him to attend muggle school like a “normal” child.  He always said it wasn’t good for his brain to rot for eleven years while he waited to attend a silly magical school where he wouldn’t learn anything but how to pull rabbits out of hats.

     The boy had laughed the first time he heard this.  Why was a rabbit in a hat in the first place?

     Then the arguments got heated.  His parents couldn’t stand each other, but they were each other’s only options.  The fight would get meaner, the voices louder until they would say things that the boy never thought he’d be able to forget.

_“Because of you, I have a filthy mudblood for a son!”_

_“I don’t even know what that means!”_

_“He’s shown no magical powers!  It means he’ll be no good in my world, worthless.  Just like you…”_

     Neither of his parents are very good role models, but his father especially not so.  The boy sees his father as cowardly for screaming at his mother, weak for being unable to put her in her place whenever she crosses a line.

     The girl across the pond begins to sing a melodious tune, and the boy’s mind wanders to something more pleasant while his eyes glaze over, but she stops abruptly and he glances through the brambles to watch her hastily open an umbrella.  Suddenly, as if the curtain of clear sky above her head had been yanked shut, the rain begins to patter against the pale green fabric.

     Soon, he sees why.  Her plainer, less desirable older sister has come over the hill to sit beside her.  He had noticed, over the past several weeks, that the girl he is drawn to has always hidden her magical abilities from her dark-haired sister.

     “Mum doesn’t want us outside today,” says the sister.

     The umbrella is small, and the younger girl holds it so that her sister is completely covered, and allows the rain to soak herself completely on her left side.

     “Mum never likes us leaving the house, says it’s dangerous these days,” the girl replies.  She adds thoughtfully, “I can’t imagine how a place like this could be dangerous.  Can you?”

     Her sister shakes her head slowly.

_A girl like her would do well at Hogwarts_ the boy thinks.  He knows she’s a muggle, and he doesn’t care.  Not like his mother does. 

     He watches the girls feed the rest of the bread to the swans before they stand to return home for supper, and he finds himself hoping against hope that she will receive an invitation to Hogwarts.

 

                 


End file.
